


color my voice (with the unspoken truth)

by betheproof



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Best Friends in Love, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 14:45:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheproof/pseuds/betheproof
Summary: Tyler puts his hands up in surrender before accepting the beer. “You caught me, Darth. You know I’ll always love Jamie best.” He turns to Jamie then, holding out his bottle. “Lineys forever, am I right?”A thousand ways to say it. Only one way to mean it.





	color my voice (with the unspoken truth)

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine's day from your local sap!
> 
> inspired by [this prompt list](http://trash-by-vouge.tumblr.com/post/132858041745/the-way-you-said-i-love-you). title inspired by [this warsan shire tweet](https://twitter.com/warsan_shire/status/232484215831273473?lang=en).

**7\. as a thank you**

 

They’re at Fidds’ house, having a barbecue to celebrate the start of the season. Technically, it’s Jamie’s job as captain to host these things, but he and Jordie could never fit the entire team in their apartment.

Besides, Fidds has a pool, which is necessary for a cookout in Dallas. Even in October, because it’s still fucking eighty degrees out, _Jesus_.

“I’m melting, swear to God,” Tyler’s saying to Val. He’d peeled his shirt off hours ago and is now sprawled out on a lawn chair, nursing his sixth beer as Jamie watches from a few feet away. “Seriously, dude, feel. I’m fucking _melting_.”

And with that, he reaches over and pulls Val’s wrist against his forehead.

“Gross!” Val yelps and moves away. His English still isn’t great, but he picked that one up pretty quick in the locker room.

Jamie rolls his eyes, grabbing a water bottle from a nearby cooler and heading over.

“Yo, Segs! Quit torturing Val here and fucking hydrate, you idiot.” He tosses the water at him, hoping to catch him off guard and create an opportunity for further chirping.

Unfortunately, Tyler’s reflexes are pretty good even when wasted, which means he catches the bottle with ease. “You brought me water?” he asks, eyes blinking wide. “Oh my god. I _love_ you.”

He turns to Val, who’s just been joined by Dales and Eaks. “Guys! Jamie brought me water. Isn’t he the best?”

Dales cracks up at that. “Quit sucking up to the captain, Seggy. You’re already on his line.”

“’M not sucking up!” Tyler whips his head back toward Jamie. “I’m not! I really think you’re the best, Jamie, I _promise_.”

“Drink your fucking water, 91,” Jamie says, but he’s grinning the whole time, trying to ignore the way his face goes warm when Tyler proclaims him the best.

 

**18\. from very far away**

 

“Jamieeeeeee! Jamie fucking Benn! You _won_ , Jamie, I can’t believe you actually won! I mean, obviously, I can believe it, because you fucking _rock_ , and also Canada fucking rocks. But fucking _Jesus_. That was a beautiful fucking game, Bennie. I kept saying to the guys—I kept saying, _that’s my fucking liney, man!_ You tore it up out there, Jamie, I fucking _love_ you.”

_[laughter]_

“Oh my god. My liney. A gold fucking medalist. I knew you could do it, Jameson. God. Okay. Call me when you get this, okay? Or when you have time. That is, if you have time for people who aren’t _Olympic fucking champions_.”

_[giggling]_

“Just kidding, I know you love me the most. And I love you, dude! You did great! So, so good, I swear. I’m so proud, did I mention that? Because I am.”

_[indistinct]_

“Okay, Brownie says I gotta hang up, but call me soon, yeah? I miss you! Come back to us in one piece, we need our captain back. Okay, bye bye, love youuu—”

_Beeeep_.

It’s been hours, and Jamie’s still a bit drunk, but that voicemail keeps replaying in his mind. He’s listened to it a few times, has even talked to Tyler a bit since he first heard it, but it’s still giving him butterflies, what the _fuck_.

Tyler just sounds so happy and earnest and Jamie _knows_ he was drunk, knows they’re just bros, but he’d said “I love you” multiple times, and it’s just—

It’s just a lot, okay?

So he lets himself have this, for now, lets himself play the message over and over until it’s lost almost all meaning. Except, of course, for the bits that matter.

_I fucking love you. I love you, dude. Love you._

He falls asleep wishing the boy attached to that voice was lying right next to him.

 

**10\. not said to me**

 

Their second season together, Tyler buys a house. Just because he’s not a floor away, however, doesn’t stop him from being around. He still drops by with the dogs sometimes, or for a random movie night.

It’s one such afternoon — they’re on a bit of a break, no game ‘til next Tuesday — and they’re having an NHL 15 tourney. Normally, they’d have more of the boys over for games like this, but it’s just Jamie and Jordie and Seggy, which privately Jamie prefers. It means he spends less time in captain mode and more time just chilling with his best bro and his actual bro.

In other words, the perfect afternoon.

At one point, Jordie calls for a breather and gets up to fetch another beer from the fridge.

“Get me one, please!” Tyler calls out.

Jordie scoffs. “Get it yourself, asshole, your legs work just fine.”

Tyler looks up from his phone and cranes his neck over the top of the couch toward the kitchen. “If you get me one, you’ll be my favorite Benn forever.”

Jamie tries not to frown at that, but he’s not sure he succeeds. Good thing no one’s paying attention to him.

Right then, Jordie comes back, six-pack and disapproving eyebrows in tow.

“Now, freeloading I can tolerate, but don’t lie to me, Segs. Don’t pretend I don’t know who your real favorite is.”

His tone is scolding, but not even his beard can hide his smirk as he holds out a fresh beer.

Tyler puts his hands up in surrender before accepting the beer.

“You caught me, Darth. You know I’ll always love Jamie best.” He turns to Jamie then, holding out his bottle. “Lineys forever, am I right?”

And by now, Jamie is pretty used to Tyler and his casual affection, so he follows the play without too much trouble. He takes his own beer from Jordie and clinks it against Tyler’s.

“Lineys forever.”

Then he and Tyler each screw off the caps and take a swig, never breaking eye contact.

“Y’all are gross,” Jordie proclaims cheerfully, then throws himself back onto the couch between them. “Come on, let’s play again.”

From behind Jordie’s back, Tyler tosses him a wink, and if Jamie’s heart stutters just a little, nobody needs to know.

 

**31\. in awe, the first time you realize it**

 

Jamie’s trying his hardest not to laugh, but it’s hard when Tyler is about two seconds from stomping his foot like a little kid.

“Okay, walk me through this again,” Jamie says, as patiently as he can while suppressing a smile.

“I already _told_ you!”

Tyler pouts in a way that really shouldn’t be cute on a grown-ass man. Unfortunately, that grown-ass man happens to be Jamie’s idiot-best-friend-turned-boyfriend, so he’s a little biased.

“I don’t know how everything shrunk, okay?” Tyler is saying. “I wrote down all the right settings after I called Mom and asked for help. I even separated the colors from the whites like you’re supposed to! But look, everything’s _little_.”

He holds up a t-shirt that, to be fair, has always been snug on Tyler. Now, though, Jamie doubts very much it would fit a twelve-year-old.

Jamie clears his throat.

“What I don’t get,” he starts gently, “is why you were doing laundry in the first place. I thought you paid someone to do that?”

“It’s all Rous’ fault!” Tyler cries out, tossing the shirt back in the pile of shrunken clothes. “He was chirping me the other day when he found out I don’t wash my own shit, and he wouldn’t stop. Kept saying I was a giant man-baby, which, in his stupid French accent, sounds so fucking condescending.”

“Big word,” Jamie mutters on instinct. Tyler shoots him a glare and he winces. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Whatever,” Tyler scoffs, then turns back to the hamper of clothes. He paws through everything, probably trying to find something that wasn’t ruined in the laundry mishap. He pulls out a white patterned top that Jamie immediately recognizes as Tyler’s favorite, and they both wince when they see how tiny it got.

Tyler’s frown deepens as he clenches the fabric in his hands. “This fucking _sucks_ ,” he mutters. “I’m so stupid.”

Something clenches in Jamie’s chest, and he immediately steps forward. “Hey, babe, no,” he soothes. “You’re not stupid. It could happen to anyone.”

“Well, it _didn’t_. It happened to me.”

Tyler looks so dejected, holding what’s become of his beloved tank top, and Jamie has to do something, can’t stand to have his boy so sad.

“Aw, c’mon, Segs, it’s not so bad.” He reaches out for the shirt, which makes Tyler raise an eyebrow, but he hands it over regardless.

Jamie holds it out against Tyler’s torso. The tank used to hang off Tyler’s slender frame, neckline dipping low enough to expose his collarbones and even some of his sculpted chest. As a general rule, Tyler likes his t-shirts like a second skin, but his tank tops are always loose in a way that’s just as dizzying. Maybe more so. Jamie, at least, has trouble keeping his hands off Tyler when he’s in this particular shirt.

Squinting, Jamie figures it’ll probably still fit Tyler, but not the way he likes. Tyler seems to realize this as well, and he lets out a huff of air.

“Hey,” Jamie scrambles, “none of that. You can totally still rock this, I know it! Maybe wear it like a crop top, eh? I know how much you like showing off those abs.”

When Tyler still doesn’t crack a smile, Jamie gets another idea. “Look, I’ll show you!”

And with that, he pulls off his own shirt and tugs on the tank top.

Obviously, Jamie’s built a little (a lot) differently than Tyler, which he probably should have thought through before squeezing himself into this shirt. But too late, he’s committed. He tugs the shirt down as far as it goes — just above his belly button — and regards Tyler, who is looking at him like he’s the dumbest person alive.

“Jamie, oh my god, take that thing off.”

“Nope,” Jamie says. “I’m stealing this from you, actually. I look pretty good. Maybe I’ll quit hockey and become an ice girl. They wear stuff like this, right?” He tugs at his boxer briefs. “Just need to get some shorter shorts and I’ll be good to go. You think they’d hire me?”

“I think you’d get arrested for public indecency,” Tyler replies, but his eyes are brightening.

Jamie shrugs. “They’d have to catch me first. And I’m _very_ fast on the ice.”

He gives an exaggerated twirl, which finally gets Tyler laughing. And Jamie’s delighted when he realizes it’s not an _I’m-laughing-but-I’m-still-kind-of-upset_ laugh. No, this is a patented Seggy giggle, complete with the scrunchy nose and the crinkled eyes Jamie loves so much.

Feeling encouraged, Jamie spins again, this time kicking his foot backward into a close approximation of a pose he swears he’s seen the girls do.

Tyler is doubled over by now, and Jamie’s laughing just as hard, even as he keeps twirling and jumping. “Tell me this isn’t a winning act,” Jamie says over their laughter, and Tyler wipes at his eyes.

“Oh my god, stop, please,” he begs, grabbing Jamie by the elbows and holding him still while he continues to cackle. “You’re so stupid, god, I love you.”

And Tyler’s been saying that since the beginning, since way before they started this whole dating thing, so Jamie barely reacts to it now. Instead, he just smacks a kiss on Tyler’s head.

“Love you too, Segs. Even though you can’t do laundry.”

Tyler’s hands slide from Jamie’s elbows to his shoulders, and he’s not laughing anymore. “No, Jamie, I mean—” he digs his fingers into Jamie’s trapezius muscle. “I’m trying to tell you I’m in love with you.”

Suddenly, Jamie isn’t laughing, either. “You—what?”

Sunlight pours in through the window, turning Tyler’s eyes bright amber.

“I’m in love with you,” he says, slowly like he’s just now figuring out. “I don’t know why it took me so long to see it, but… I love you, Jame. And not like I love Jordie or Cracks or even Brownie. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything.”

Then Tyler frowns.

“Well. Maybe not more than hockey. Or my dogs. Or—”

“Shut up,” Jamie cuts him off. “You. You really love me?”

Sometimes, Tyler smiles with his whole body.

“Yeah, dude. I love you for realsies.”

And Jamie — well, he’d squeeze into a thousand more tank tops if only Tyler would look at him like that forever.

“I love you, too, Ty,” Jamie says, before surging down to kiss him. “I’ve loved you forever.”

Tyler whines into Jamie’s mouth, kissing him back with fervor. “Say it again,” he whispers, even as he kisses Jamie so thoroughly that he can hardly breathe, let alone speak.

Still, Jamie obliges. Of course he does. He’d do anything for Tyler. “I love you,” he says, pulling back to plant hot kisses along Tyler’s jawline. He presses the words into Tyler’s skin — _I love you, I love you_ — until he fits his mouth on that spot where Tyler’s neck meets his collarbone. The spot that always makes Tyler melt.

Sure enough, Tyler goes boneless, and it’s a good thing Jamie’s gripping him because otherwise he’d end up on the floor.

“Mm, Jamie, fuck, _Jamie_ ,” he breathes. “I love you too, oh my god.”

His hands are everywhere all at once, even as Jamie sucks a bruise into his neck, until finally Tyler finds the hem of his shirt.

Then he’s laughing again.

“Oh my god, you’re still wearing my fucking tank top,” Tyler lets out through his giggles. “Get this fucking thing _off_ , Jesus, you look ridiculous.”

Jamie pulls back and waggles his eyebrows. “Why don’t you take it off me?”

Tyler fucking _leers_.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

 

**33\. on a post-it note**

 

Once before morning skate, Jamie is getting his stick ready when he runs out of tape. He grumbles, annoyed because he thought he had enough and he doesn’t think he has a spare roll. He could ask someone else, of course, but Jamie’s kind of particular when it comes to stick tape.

He’s not superstitious, really. He’s _not_. He just… likes a certain kind of stick tape. That’s all. But it’s looking like he’ll have to suck it up this time and just use someone else’s, so he leans into the next stall over. “Hey, Seggy, you got any—?”

Tyler, who’s lacing up his skates, doesn’t even look up. “I put tape in your bag this morning. Side pocket.”

Sure enough, when Jamie checks the pocket, there’s a roll of tape in there. Right brand and everything. “How did you—”

Tyler snorts. “I started keeping a spare after you freaked out the last time you ran out.” He stands up and claps a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “I know how much of a diva you are about what kind you use.”

“Hey! I’m not the diva in this relationship.”

“You’re both divas,” Bish deadpans as he passes by.

Tyler cackles even as Jamie lets out a noise of protest. “He’s not wrong, baby, you have to admit.” He pats Jamie’s cheek roughly before standing up. “Now hurry up, cap, or you’ll be the last out on the ice. Not setting a very good example for the rookies.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jamie grumbles, but Tyler’s already walking away, still laughing.

As annoying as his boyfriend is, Tyler’s not wrong — Jamie should get really get a move on. He ducks down to grab the tape, but then he notices the bright green Post-It stuck to the bottom of it. Flipping over the roll, he sees a message scrawled in Tyler’s handwriting.

_Love you! - Segs_

When he sees that Tyler even managed to draw a few messy stars in the corners, Jamie just about melts on the spot. He feels eyes on him, and he whips his head up to see Tyler still in the entrance of the locker room. Tyler doesn’t say anything, only clicks his tongue and winks at Jamie. Then he smacks the doorframe.

“Alright, boys! Let’s do that hockey!”

And Jamie might have an idiot for a boyfriend, but at least he landed the best, most beautiful idiot in the world.

 

**21\. over your shoulder**

 

Jamie is sitting with Rads on the bus when he overhears his name from a few seats in front of them.

“Gross, Shoresy!” Tyler yelps. “Put your shoes back on! Your feet smell even worse than Jamie’s, what the fuck.”

“No need to be rude,” Jamie calls out, slightly offended.

Tyler turns back to grin at him. “Love you, Chubbs!”

Jamie flips him off, but he returns the smile.

Next to him, Rads says, “Is right, you know. Your feet not smell good.”

Groaning inwardly, Jamie thinks, _what did I do to deserve this?_ before settling in for the long ride to the airport.

 

**25\. in a blissful sigh as you fall asleep**

 

It takes almost ten minutes before either of them can say anything. When they do, it’s Tyler. Of course. He can never stay quiet for long.

“Wow,” he says from where he’s collapsed on the pillow next to Jamie.

“Yeah,” Jamie replies breathlessly.

“That was—”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, when you—”

“I know.”

“And then when you made me—”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, brushing his damp hair out of his eyes. “I don’t think you’ve ever lasted that long before.”

“Fuck you,” Tyler says, slapping a hand against Jamie’s chest, but it’s weak. “I don’t think you’ve ever gotten that _loud_ before.”

“Fuck you, too.” Jamie finally turns to see Tyler with his eyes closed, still breathing hard.

“Hey. You okay?”

Tyler laughs.

“Yeah, Chubbs, I’m fine. It’s just you made me come the most times that I ever have in a single hour, so if you don’t mind, I’m about to pass the fuck out.”

Jamie feels smug the way he always does when he and Tyler do something sexually that he’s never done with anyone else.

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” he says, then goes to get them a washcloth. Because Tyler may be too tired to clean himself off, but Jamie hates going to bed with the remnants of sex on his skin.

“Hey,” Tyler says, reaching out blindly until his hand brushes Jamie’s ribs. “Good game, babe.”

Jamie chokes back a laugh. “Thanks. You too.”

By the time he gets to the bathroom and back again, Tyler’s breathing has mostly evened out. He doesn’t move at all when Jamie wipes him down, and Jamie thinks he must’ve fallen asleep when he hears a mumbled but happy “thank you, love you” fall from Tyler’s lips.

Smiling, Jamie swipes a gentle kiss on Tyler’s cheekbone.

“Sleep tight, Segs.”

 

**15\. loud, so everyone can hear**

 

_Tap, tap, tap._

“Excuse me!” _Tap, tap._ “Hi, everybody? I’d like to make an announcement.”

Jamie hasn’t had much to drink today, but he’s been buzzing since he first put on the tux this morning, so it takes him a second to register the voice on the microphone as Tyler’s.

“Yeah, hi, thank you for listening.”

And Jamie is sitting a ways away, but he still recognizes the flush on his new husband’s cheeks.

“Thank you for coming, too! That’s one thing I wanted to say. Thanks for coming to my wedding.”

Tyler laughs, and everyone laughs with him. Tipsy Tyler is somehow even more charming than sober Tyler, which is still a mystery to Jamie even after all these years.

Tyler clears his throat before continuing. “I won’t take up too much more of your time, but I just wanted to tell you all that I love that man right there!” He points right to Jamie, and suddenly all eyes are on him.

“I love you, Jamie Benn!” Tyler yells again, and not two hours ago, they both stood in front of everyone here and said the exact same thing to each other. But there’s something about the way Tyler looks — collar unbuttoned and tie nowhere to be seen, face lit up from the inside out — that feels so vulnerable, so _true_. It sends sparks surging down Jamie’s spine, and all he can do is return Tyler’s crazy grin.

“Right,” Tyler says into the mic, “that’s all I wanted to say. Carry on, everyone! I’m gonna go dance with my husband. Feel free to join me. DJ, hit that music!”

And with that, he hops off the stage and makes his way to Jamie.

Jamie has no idea what kind of face he’s making, but it has to be at least as ridiculous as Tyler’s when he finally gets to him.

“Hi, Chubbs. Chubbs my hubs. Hey! That rhymes,” he says, like he hasn’t made that same awful joke at least ten times the whole week leading up to the ceremony. “Did you like my announcement?”

Tyler’s mouth is cherry-red and stretched wide, and Jamie wants to kiss the little dip in his nose. So he does.

“I did like it, Ty,” he said, pulling him into his chest. “I loved it. Thank you.”

“Good,” Tyler says emphatically, like he’d really been afraid Jamie wouldn’t like it. “I’m glad. I meant it, though. I love you. I love you _lots_.”

This time, Jamie kisses him full on the mouth.

“Me too, Ty. Love you lots. ‘Til death do us part.”

 

**23\. through a song**

 

It’s a Tuesday in the offseason, and Jamie wakes to an empty bed and the smell of bacon.

Since they’ve been together, Tyler’s gotten better at cooking, but Jamie still likes to supervise him. You know. Just in case.

Plus, it smells really good, and Jamie is really hungry. It’s that more than anything that gets him out of bed and down to the stairs.

When he gets to the kitchen, Tyler’s back is to him. He’s wearing nothing but boxers and an apron tied hastily around his neck and waist. Jamie can’t quite tell, but he’s almost sure it’s the frilly pink one Jordie got him when they announced their engagement. “Since you’re gonna be a housewife soon, baby bro,” he’d joked.

Little did he know that, though Jamie did most of the cooking, Tyler would end up wearing that thing. _All the time_. Jamie has a sneaking suspicion he does it because he knows just how much Jamie likes it.

Tyler still hasn’t turned around, so Jamie takes this chance to watch him do his thing. He seems to be manning several skillets over the stove, all while swinging his hips and singing along to the music that’s playing softly from his phone on the counter. It’s not Tyler’s usual dance club noise, or even his beloved pop, and it takes Jamie a couple seconds to realize what it is. When he finally gets it, he lets out a chuckle.

“You working out a stage act in here?”

Tyler spins around. “Jamie!” he yells gleefully. “Morning, sunshine. You sleep okay?” Now that they’re facing each other, Jamie can see that, yep, he’s wearing the frilly pink apron.

“Yeah, I slept fine,” Jamie replies, walking forward and greeting Tyler with a peck on the lips. “What are you doing up so early, anyway? I usually have to drag you out of bed kicking and screaming on days we don’t have stuff to do.”

Suddenly, Jamie frowns.

“Do we have something to do that I forgot about?”

“Nah,” Tyler says, turning back to the stove to take the bacon off the heat and to flip some frankly delicious-looking French toast. “I just thought I’d make you food for once. Can’t a guy treat his husband to a killer breakfast?”

And they’ve been married for almost six months, but it still thrills Jamie to hear Tyler say that. He fiddles with his wedding band and smiles at Tyler.

“Well, if a guy wants to, who am I to stop him?” Then he gestures at Tyler’s phone. “Seriously, though, what’s up with this music? You been watching romcoms again?”

“So what if I have?” Tyler replies. “You know I love 10 Things. Besides, this is a classic!”

And as the instrumental wraps up and the singing starts back up again, Tyler points his spatula at Jamie and starts to belt along.

“I love you, _babyyy_! And if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night. I love ya, _baaaaaby_! Trust me when I sayyyy.”

As he sings, he does a weird kind of shimmy-walk toward Jamie that’s maybe supposed to be sexy but just looks ridiculous.

Of course, Jamie finds Tyler sexy pretty much one hundred percent of the time, so it’s not a total failure.

“You are so dumb,” Jamie tells him when Tyler finally wraps his arms around Jamie’s middle.

“Yeah, but you’re the one who married me,” Tyler reasons, before leaning in close but not quite kissing Jamie.

“Marrying you means I get to keep you forever,” Jamie says, rubbing his nose against Tyler’s, “which is a pretty smart move on my part, I’d say.”

“God, you’re sappy in the morning.”

“Says the guy who got up early to make me breakfast.”

“You’re right, we’re both gross,” Tyler concedes, then finally closes the gap between them.

Eventually, they’ll eat the breakfast Tyler so sweetly prepared. For now, they make out like the newlyweds they are, while Jamie thinks, _yeah, I’m a genius for snatching this guy up_.

 

**14\. a whisper in my ear**

 

The house is quiet, save for Stella’s occasional whimpers.

Jamie woke about an hour ago to the cries coming from the baby monitor. Now, before last week, Jamie had thought he could handle any kind of crying his baby girl could throw at him. After all, she’d been with them for seven months, and Jamie knew her pretty well by this point. He knew what she sounded like when she was hungry, when she was tired, even when she was just grumpy.

But a week ago, she started teething. Jamie hadn’t known until then that yes, babies cry, but they could also scream pretty darn well.

To be honest, he has no idea how Tyler slept through it this time. They had both been waking up every time Stella let loose, tag-teaming the process of cuddling Stella while the other got the teething ring from the freezer.

This time, though, Tyler kept on snoring, and Jamie didn’t wake him. He’s been out with a knee injury for a couple weeks. It’s not serious, he should be ice-ready any day now, but it does mean that he’s been spending most of his recovery time at home with the baby while Jamie’s been playing or at practice most days. And dad-tired is miles away from hockey-tired, so Jamie made the decision to let him sleep.

Besides, he’ll take any chance to spend quality time with his best girl.

He’s rocking Stella back and forth, murmuring nonsense at her in what he hopes is a soothing voice, when he happens to look up to see Tyler at the entrance of the nursery.

“Hey,” he says softly. “What are you doing up?”

Tyler rubs at his eyes, smile sleepy-slow. “I woke up and you weren’t there. So I came to investigate.” He gestures to Stella. “How is she?”

“Okay now, I think. She’s had the ring for a few minutes, and she’s stopped crying, so.”

Tyler nods, then steps forward until he reaches them. “Hi, sweet thing,” he says, gently tugging at the teething ring. When Stella doesn’t protest, he pulls it the rest of the way out of her grip and sets it down on the dresser nearby.

Then he turns back to them, strokes a gentle finger across their baby’s tiny face.

“Is your daddy taking good care of you?”

Stella lets out a yawn, eyes drooping, and Tyler chuckles.

“Yeah, he does that for me, too. He’s good at taking care of people, your daddy. I hope you get that from him.”

“Well, I hope she gets your everything else.”

Tyler meets Jamie's gaze, and it’s so open and loving that it takes Jamie’s breath away.

“You’re so good,” Tyler says to him. “How’d you get to be so good?”

Jamie shrugs as much as he can without disturbing Stella. “Practice, I guess.”

“Well, it certainly paid off.”

Tyler smiles down at Stella again, then steps closer and circles his arms around them, leans his cheek against Jamie’s collarbone.

“Love you,” he says, and his warm breath tickles Jamie’s neck. Jamie hums in reply, then kisses Tyler’s forehead.

The house falls silent again, and as Jamie stands there, he suddenly remembers the feeling he got when he and Ty finally won their first cup together. It was a couple seasons ago, but Jamie still remembers it like it was yesterday. The feeling of total triumph, of elation at finally achieving something he’d been dreaming about since he was a teenager. He remembers cheers and confetti and so much noise. He remembers his chest puffing with pride as he finally got to hold the cup in his hands.

And none of it, absolutely none of it, holds a candle to this: the quiet joy he gets from being in the presence of his two favorite people. The love he feels for these two. His husband and his daughter. This is what it means to be happy. This is what it means to feel loved.

And nothing, not even the cup, could ever come close to topping that.

**Author's Note:**

> ☆ [come say hello](http://betheproof.tumblr.com/) ☆


End file.
